


A Taxing Affair

by Augustus



Category: Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-07-03
Updated: 2001-07-03
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augustus/pseuds/Augustus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Price John is sick of talk of Maid Marian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taxing Affair

"Love her I."

I stared at him in confusion. "What's that, Rottingham?"

He growled softly, shook his head and tried again. "I love her."

I cast aside the leg of venison I had been picking at and turned to regard him. "Who are we talking about again?"

"Marian!" he shouted, then quickly curbed his anger as he noticed the expression on my face.

"Temper, temper," I drawled. "We wouldn't want you to find a large price on your head..."

"Sorry," he muttered, sufficiently cowed. "It's just that we’ve been talking about her for the last half hour, sire."

"It hasn't escaped my notice... _Mervyn_."

He cringed at the sound of the hated name. "But you said..."

I broke in before he could finish. "Who's wearing the big, golden crown with the sparkly bits, Rottingham?"

"Well, you are, but..."

"And who's sitting in the big wooden throne with all the regal throw cushions?"

He sighed deeply. "You are."

"I'm sick of all this talk about Marian," I yawned. "It bores me."

Being king was fun. I could have people killed for smiling in the wrong way, or have one hundred concubines delivered to my bedchamber at night. I could wear the big, sparkly crown and sit on the numerous regal cushions. There was one thing that being king couldn't give me, however. The love of my right hand man, my beloved Mervyn. No, his heart was already taken, by a young floozy with long curly hair and panties made of iron. My only hope? A young upstart in a feathered cap and clinging green tights.

But that was by the by.

"How could Marian bore anyone?" he gushed, unaware of my own inner turmoil.

"She's just a woman," I muttered. "Enough with the acclamations already. Dribble any more and you'll make her rust."

He raised himself a full six inches in his chair before speaking, veins throbbing at his temple in that endearing way of his. "Of her speak a manner don't in such!" he shouted manfully.

I frowned, utterly confused. "What?"

He drew a deep breath before making a second attempt. "Don't speak of her in such a manner."

"You seem to be forgetting who's king, Rottingham." I raised an eyebrow at him, reproachfully and not a little seductively.

Naturally, it was lost on him.

"Who? Richard?"

With one word, he wounded me grievously. How could he be so cruel, so callous? But then, that was why I loved him.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," I replied haughtily, gathering my dignity about myself. "But I think you should make yourself scarce. You wouldn't want me to accidentally sign a death warrant with your name on it, would you...?"

He paled noticeably. "Just leaving, sire."

A couple of hasty bows and bootlicks later, he was gone.

Taking up a pen and parchment, I began to write. "Robin of Loxley," I said aloud as I wrote. "I have come to a new conclusion with regard to the matters of taxation previously discussed. I am now willing to accept your proposed changes, on the one proviso - that you capture the heart of Maid Marian and take her far, far away from here. Yours, King (underscore, underscore) John."

Sighing deeply, I put down my pen and rolled the parchment into a scroll. Reaching into a pocket, I took out a small portrait and stared gloomily at it. "If _I_ can't have you, Mervyn, Sheriff of Rottingham, then _no-one_ will!"

**3rd July 2001**


End file.
